


Behind the Scenes

by HyperKid



Series: Critter Gods [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Mostly gossip and play cards, Multi, Other, This was supposed to be crack, What the gods do behind the scenes, mentions of mollymauk, spoilers for 26, spoilers for 55, the fuck happened, while U’kotoa floats in his tub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 07:49:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18616300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyperKid/pseuds/HyperKid
Summary: The smaller gods of Fehrun tend to be a little more involved in the lives of their followers. Some have favourites. And it’s nice to talk to someone who understands.





	Behind the Scenes

**Author's Note:**

> HK: So, like the tag says, this was SUPPOSED to be crack.  
> Mollymauk: You meet so much crack you don’t know what to do with, really, I’ll have to give you lessons.  
> HK: I’d say it’s not that kind of crack, but I’m genuinely afraid you’ll prove me wrong.  
> Mollymauk: That’s because you pay attention. 
> 
> WARNINGS!! Some spoilers, mentions of character death 
> 
> Disclaimer: If I wrestle Brian can I win the rights to Critical Role?

At first, it was just the two of them. The Traveler stopped by Zadash to see how his favourite cleric was doing, and became aware of another divine presence following the Mighty Nein. It’s not unusual with a group so large, and he was curious; it’d be interesting to see who his little tiefling is playing with. 

 

He wasn’t expecting the Storm Lord per se, not specifically in the Dwendalian empire, but it wasn’t an unwelcome surprise. The Storm Lord is a gruff, harsh god, but that just makes him a better straight man for the Traveler to play off. And there’s a streak of softness in him with his little aasimar barbarian that is familiar. 

 

Yasha wasn’t always with the group, and accordingly neither was the Storm Lord, but then the Traveler wasn’t always with them either. And time in the celestial plane passes a little differently; so do the rules of magic. It wasn’t too hard for the two deities to catch a moment together and share a drink, and discuss their charges in the prime material plane. 

 

Like his barbarian charge, the Storm Lord found Jester endearingly sweet and playful. The Traveler may have taken that compliment just a little to heart, but since the Storm Lord likely took his nod to Yasha’s reserve and gentle nature the same way, neither would call the other out on it. 

 

Jester is sweet. 

 

Yasha is kind. 

 

Neither particularly expected to hear from U’kotoa from his prison between the planes, but when he managed to force an image through they had plenty of questions. 

 

U’kotoa was not much of a conversationalist, that first time. Four words at a time are the most he could force through the barriers to communicate with his warlocks, and breaking through to the celestial plane is harder still. 

 

But the Traveler was very good at cunning plots and little loopholes, and curious enough about who drove the half orc his cleric found so interesting to warrant a little conversation. Once they worked out where the insistent rumble of “QUESTIONS” came from. 

 

U’kotoa projects best into salt water. So they arrange for a bath tub for him in the small, secluded house that has become their meeting point to discuss the Mighty Nein. All three have other warlocks, clerics, paladins, or barbarians around the realms to watch over, their own relationships to the other gods. 

 

But when all the plotting and guiding and intrigue got tiresome, it was good to have a space with one small group of lovable idiots who are guaranteed to amuse on one level or another. 

 

The Traveler and the Storm Lord tried to teach U’kotoa to play cards a few times. The tentacles he manifests aren’t best suited to manipulating the deck, but the Storm Lord at least won’t cheat if trusted with his hand. 

 

When all three of their charges are taken at once, the Traveler notices first. U’kotoa has less followers at that given time, but focusing his attention on one in particular is taxing, and there’s a seaborn elf making a lot of noise in his direction. His half orc going quiet is easy to miss. 

 

But the Traveler watches Jester closely, if only to keep an ear out for her stories when she sits with her sketchbook every few nights. He’s expecting many, many more stories about her time in Hupperdook, and when he gets none he goes looking. 

 

There’s a not particularly small sense of panic when he finds her hands bound, symbol taken, lips gagged. To see the others with her is no comfort; the Nein would need all the strength they could muster, and this has neatly halved it. To find the Storm Lord would take so much time, and he can’t know how much she has. Can’t know if she hears him reply when she sings to her fellow prisoners, forcing happy sounds through the cloth until her jaw aches. Can’t tell if she knows how proud he is of her strength. 

 

U’kotoa is easier, but the power to punch a message through to him, and for him to draw the strength to respond, makes the gesture empty at best. But the Traveler can flit between his charge and the Nein, and carry messages. He knows when the final attack is to be made, and all three have their eyes on it. 

 

The Wildmother is an unexpected arrival, close on her cleric’s shoulder for his first trip away from home. The other three are more than happy for her help and easily make room. 

 

She’s a little... difficult to read. One of the major goddesses in many parts of the world, she has an aloof, sometimes distant disposition, and not even the Traveler can guess what she’s thinking when she smiles. 

 

The Storm Lord thinks she coddles her cleric (he’s always thought all of them are far too soft) but the Traveler can appreciate the warmth when she speaks of her Caduceus. Jester likes him too, trying to take him under her wing and introduce him to the city of Zadash, but easily falling back to a more deferential relationship. There’s a quiet wisdom to Caduceus, a certainty that tends to draw the others to follow him. 

 

The Traveler finds it all hilarious, especially when they ask the firbolg about the natural world. U’kotoa doesn’t always catch the joke, joining in occasionally with “QUESTION” or “MISUNDERSTAND”, which is usually exactly what Caduceus is doing, and only makes it funnier. Eventually the Traveler’s pretty sure he’s going to muster the energy to squeeze a “WHAT THE FUCK” through, and he lives for that day. 

 

The Wildmother doesn’t often have time to join them in their little clubhouse, she’s very hands on with a lot of her worshippers. But when she comes by, she brings them tea, and they spend hours talking and watching their little pets in the prime material plane. She has a frankly astonishing repertoire of dirty jokes that the Traveler is noting to share with Jester. Telling her where he got them from would delight the tiefling, so he probably will. 

 

There is no question that the Wildmother wouldn’t be told when Jester calls for her. By a stroke of luck, it’s just the two of them watching on that fateful day beneath the city of beasts. The Storm Lord is busy, and U’kotoa hasn’t the power to punch through the realms again. 

 

The Traveler can feel the pain in Jester’s chest when she reaches out, unfamiliar and powerful magic welling at her call. The spell she thinks she should have been familiar with for months now. He reaches back at once, taking her hand and looking up to the Wildmother as the power flows. 

 

He might be considering a good hearted crack about how they seem to need each other almost as much as their clerics do. But Jester’s hand shakes in his. 

 

The Wildmother, unflappable as ever, gives them both a tender smile as her cleric is brought back. Later she’ll tell the Traveler that she appreciates the favour, and hopes not to have to return it. They’ll talk about a little reward for their hard working hands. A present to show that even when they’re not right there, they’re always watching. 

 

But what matters in the moment is that Caduceus draws breath, sits up, smiles at friends all frozen in horror from his fall. They’re all exhausted and burnt out, and slowly group together to try and recover from the day. The Wildmother stays just long enough to ensure her cleric will be okay, but she has many demands on her time.

 

The Traveler watches Jester for a while without really knowing why. She is... not delicate, not exactly, she has the subtlety of a charging rhino and about the same resilience. But she’s wavering, and she needs someone to talk to. 

 

Luckily there’s a new friend to be made in this very city. It’s not the same as talking about everything that’s been worrying her, or really getting into the root of her worries. But he knows she’ll brighten like a sunbeam to meet another of his pets, and it’s the best he can do on short notice. 

 

**

 

The gods of Fehrun have their own plane to live on and their own concerns, both there and in their influence in the prime material plane. Their relationships can be as complex and multilayered as any mortal’s, friendships and lovers and enemies made for any reason. 

 

But there’s one small house where all the politics and drama can be put aside, where deities from all walks have come together because of a small group of adventurers. Where there’s always a fresh tea now, and a bath tub for a serpent to pop into and chat. 

 

The Moon Weaver doesn’t come as often as she once did anymore, but she will always be welcome. There’s four seats at the table, a well worn deck of cards that almost serves as a background while they talk. 

 

It’s not always about the Mighty Nein. But here, at least, they can put aside their mantles of responsibility. They can learn from their short lived charges. A group of wandering destinies converged along the Amber Road and birthed a philosophy to live life to the fullest. 

 

To leave every place better than they found it. 

 

And yes, that doesn’t always go well, and the definition of “better” is intentionally a little faded and flexible. One thing is undeniable however; this one group will change the world. 

 

They have already begun to change their gods. 

**Author's Note:**

> HK: This concept is absolutely up for adoption because I have waaaay too much to do, and the gods having a tea party to dish about their Nein is far too potent. I might get around to some more crack later but PLEASE SOMEONE TAKE THIS OFF MY HANDS XD


End file.
